


House arrest - AU

by animal



Series: House arrest AU [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Main income provider Rey, OOC Rey, One Shot Collection, Parenting 101, Praise Kink, Rey's the shyest bitch around, Rough Sex, SO MUCH FLUFF YOU'RE GONNA CHOKE ON IT YOU GUYS, Spanking, Stay-at-Home Dad, Teasing!Ben, Time Jump, existential doubts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:24:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animal/pseuds/animal
Summary: Her shock is genuine. She's never gotten used to this, to his great joy.But he's not the type to blush, and he's not the type to look away; in fact, he only stares more intently into her eyes as he gets his face closer to hers, adding with a somewhat casual tone, watching her open her mouth even wider:"...enjoy walking while you can."Time-jumps, oneshots and additional smut/fluff scenes set in the House arrest AU.This work is the second part of House arrest, a multi-chapter fic where we get to see Ben and Rey meet and fall for each other.That being said, unless indicated otherwise in the chapters' notes, you won't need to read that first part to enjoy the following chapters and oneshots.





	1. Domesticated (1/2) - A grown-ass man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreyWarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyWarrior/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben have been living together for five years.  
> Their daughter is about to turn four.
> 
> Ben needs a break from being a stay-at-home dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll alternate between Ben's and Rey's POVs. 
> 
> This chapter, along with the next one, is a time jump of five years after the events happening in the part 1 of the House arrest AU serie. That being said, you don't need to read that first part to enjoy it.

 

Domesticated:

**_A grown-ass man_ **

 

 

Ben holds his breath. 

 

He could hear her through a storm. She can pad as discreetly as possible, he's attuned to her every noises.

 

He groans, and rolls on his back under the sheet. 

 

_God-fucking-damn it._

 

He's thoroughly pissed, but it's like he doesn't even have the energy to manifest it in any way shape or form. He's been robbed of all his inner fire. 

And the thief is three feet tall. 

 

Sure enough, he hears their bedroom door squeak weakly. Followed by the loud breathing of their soon to be four year old offspring.

She's not out of breath, she just breathes through her mouth, all the time. 

 

Sometimes he just wishes they could... close the fucking store. It's Sunday. For fuck's sake.  _And it's 7 am_.

 _Really?_  Can't this evil child sleep for thirty more minutes?

 

Next to him, Rey hums weakly in return. She doesn't move though. 

 

She's even more tired than him. But other than that, she's got nothing to worry about. 

 

Her daughter's not gonna go to her. Nah.

 

Liadan only goes to Daddy, no matter what. 

 

At almost four, she already registered that Mommy earns the money -and Daddy, well... Daddy handles  everything else. 

The laundry, the cleaning, the dishes, the groceries -God knows that it took a while to get the hang of it, given how specific Mommy is with the ingredients she needs- the doctor's appointments, the meetings with the teachers, the strolls in the park, the playtimes at her little friends' birthdays, the visits at Grandma's, etc. etc. etc. 

 

Even when his daughter takes a shit, he has to be there, despite that she can handle herself alone now.

He taught her to use the Big Girl potty -the toilets, in regular english- and that particular teaching has morphed into a sacred pact between them, in her eyes, apparently.

 

Might be his fault. He _might_ have overplayed it the first times she used the toilets on her own. Literaly jumping up and down like a lunatic, taking her in his arms as if she found the cure for cancer, roaring: "YES. MY DAUGHTER IS A MIGHTY GOD. FEAR HER."

 

...fear her.

 

 _Fear her_ , she took a shit in the toilet.

So, yeah. 

 

He can't say his excitment witnessing her take that big step wasn't genuine. 

But now he has a bit of trouble displaying the same enthusiasm every time she calls him because she went poo-poo. 

Because she calls him. Every. Damn. Time. And it's been a while since that has been going on. 

 

He'll be in the kitchen, busy having his hand batted away by Rey as he tries stealing bits of food while she prepares dinner, and he'll hear Liadan yell at the top of her lungs from the end of the corridor:

 

_"Daddy-eeeeee!"_

 

At this point, they don't even have to say anything, or look at each other, they already know what that means. 

Not a shit is taken by this tiny human without her calling her father to attest the result. She must think it makes her Daddy so happy, so she doesn't miss an opportunity to give him all she has.

She really doesn't.  

 

" _Daddy-eeee_! Come look!"

 

He takes a big gulp of air and pulls on the collar of his shirt to shield his nose with it, holding it there, tucking his chin in, before entering the bathroom. 

 

She looks at him expectantly. Waiting for him to check her work of art. 

 

" _Greeeat_. Amazing. Wow." He closes his eyes. 

He's never getting used to this, is he?

 

"-- _holy shit--_ " he adds under his breath despite himself, before prompting her to flush it all down, nudging her shoulder so that she does it herself: "Okay, say Goodbye now!"

 

"Goodbye!" she says, cheerfully waving at the toilet, before pulling on the flush. 

 

At least now he doesn't have to wipe her anymore, and  _that_ , that's the true luxury. 

 

The joys of being a dad. 

 

 

...right about now though, it's 7am, on a Sunday, and he's not quite ready to be a dad just yet. 

 

He rolls on his front to face her, the sheets covering him up to his neck.

She's next to the bed, her head a bit higher than his, and he stares up at her through his hair, hoping he's conveying all his reluctance.

 

Apparently not, because she puts her little hands on his shoulder and head to plant a kiss on his cheek. As if she wanted to wake him up gently, despite seeing he's already awake.

 

But he pushes her away gently just in time, before she gets her little mouth on him.

 

"No, don't kiss Daddy." She doesn't look perturbed in the slightest, and backs away, eyes on him. "Daddy has bad breath," he still explains, for good measure. 

 

Liadan. She has more freckles than her mother. What will become a strong nose. Big, almond shaped eyes, of a light brown, under her short bangs. Ears even bigger, peeking out of her long, thick black hair. 

 

Every time she plays with her dolls, she's organizing a sort of fight club between them. He and Rey often hear her yell from her bedroom "Die!" or "Revenge!". And her whole body blushes when she disobeys. He hopes  _that_ never changes, that's super handy.  

 

"I'm hungry," she says.

 

The gall. 

 

"I don't care," he shoots back flatly. 

 

He hears Rey shifting on her side of the bed. He knows she's listening. 

 

"I want breakfast," his daughter kindly elaborates -the poor girl must think he's helpless, and that he didn't get her subtle innuendo. He narrows his eyes:

 

"So?" 

 

She looks somewhere on the sheets, then on the wall, certainly in the hope she'll find another way to make him understand that it's time for him to get out of bed, but she must be short on those, because she repeats "I'm hungry."

 

"Not gonna lie, Lili, your approach is a bit weak --because you repeated the same argument twice, my love."

 

"No," she counters feebly, because she never makes any sense. He ignores it.

 

"If it didn't work the first time, it's not gonna work the second."

 

"No." 

 

"You're just gonna say no to everything I say?"

 

Of course she is.

She pauses. 

 

"...no," he hears her mutter. She's basically waiting there now. 

 

" _Why not play in your room?_ "

 

"I'm hungry," she repeats, very pertinently. 

 

"You're being a bit dramatic, I mean you ate yesterday--"

 

" _Ben_."

 

This, came from the other side of the bed. A soft-spoken warning.

 

He inhales.

"Daddy can't make you breakfast right away, love."

 

"Okay," replies Liadan -still distracted by the _wall_. But she doesn't move.

 

"Okay, so go play in your room."

 

"I want Mommy to make breakfast."

 

Of course she does.

He feels he's about to break. His tone is deceptively soft. Maybe Rey can sense it too, because it seems she tenses in the sheets. 

 

"Mommy can't make you breakfast right this moment either," he explains kindly.

 

"Why?"

 

"--because Daddy is eating Mommy's pussy out."

 

_"BEN !!"_

 

He stiffens. The mattress moves. Rey sat on the edge to look for the bottom of her pyjamas.

 

 

...there it goes. Out the fucking window.  _Goddamn it._

 

Something's more important though, because Liadan seems distraught. 

 

He strokes her arm up and down, brows furrowed in genuine concern: 

"What--what's going on, sweetie, what's the matter?"

 

She makes a pout. _What did he say? ...that she can possibly understand the meaning of?_

 

" _That's good news_ ," he adds, "why you making that face?" 

 

"Daddy don't eat a pussy," she whines.

 

He closes his eyes in understanding _. Right._

 

"Oh my god, my love, I'm so sorry, did I say  _pussy_? I meant  _vagina_."

 

Rey jumps to her feet, eyes wide open: 

 

_"Ben!!"_

 

She picks Liadan up and rushes out of the bedroom, muttering: 

"...Daddy lost it."

 

He follows her with his eyes, hurrying to retort as she walks out, Liadan in her arms.

"Given how you were purring two minutes ago, I think I still got it, actually." 

 

She's on her way to the kitchen. 

 

Great. Now he has to walk around with a hard-on.

He can't go to the kitchen like that.

 

He has to wait until his cock surrenders to the harsh reality of parenthood. 

 

 

It hasn't always been like that. They mainly exchange through their daughter now, so to speak. Since Liadan has been able to talk, he's been saying crazy shit to her -well, actually, he used to say crazy shit to her before that too; but  _before_ , because she couldn't repeat anything, Rey didn't mind.

Since their daughter  _can_  repeat what Daddy says, Rey's whole vocabulary has been reduced to his first name. 

 

_Ben._

 

_Ben!_

 

_BEN._

 

 

That little word used to be said over and over on a  _very_  different tone, in  _a very different kind of context_.

Now every time they get a chance to _do it_ , it's usually when Liadan's asleep, in the morning or during her nap, so they have to keep they voice down. 

 

Talk about a joy killer. 

 

But yeah, he's been enjoying way too much being able to speak with his daughter. It's a never-ending source of fun.

One day, Rey's dressing in front of the mirror in their bedroom, and he's still lying in bed, looking at her.

Usually, he's the one who's up before everybody else. Liadan rudely interrupts his study and walks in.

 

"Daddy, get up!"

 

"No, I'm good."

 

"It's a school day." 

 

"How would  _you_  know? ...Not to hurt your feelings, sweetie, but you're clueless."

 

In those moments, he doesnt have to look at her, he can  _feel_  Rey roll her eyes.

She's still quite the introvert, even with him, even after all those years, so she doesn't participate, but she does a poor job at acting like she doesn't enjoy this as much as he does. He catches half-smiles that she tries to repress -surely because she doesn't want to encourage him. 

She should know by now, that he doesn't need any encouragement. 

 

His daughter, meanwhile, has yet to be bothered by his nonsense. 

 

"Come on, Daddy."

 

"The car keys are by the door, don't forget to indicate when you turn left or right."

 

Rey's car keys. 

His adorable four year old persists, trying to talk some sense into him: 

 

"We have to go to school, Daddy--"

 

 _"We_  ? ...have to go to school? --Sweetie I love you, but no fucking way." 

 

Rey spins around, eyes wide:

_"Ben!"_

 

He goes for obliviousness:

" _What?_  --Rey, I know she means well, but I'm  _not_  going back to school!"

 

Now he can actually see her roll her eyes. Hard. She turns around to put her shoes on. But it doesn't stop him.

 

"I'm a grown-ass man. I'm not attending class with little kids, that's final."

 

"Shut,  _up!_ " 

 

 

...yes, he loves talking with his daughter, especially when the Mom's around.

But that's not all he likes to do with Liadan. 

 

He likes to fold the sheets with her. He likes to see her put all her little heart in it, only to be of  _no help at all_. It fucking makes his day -every time.

He tells her to hold one side, while he holds the other, and he does all the work but he makes her believe he can't do it without her. 

 

He also likes to makes the bed with her.

Meaning, with her present.

He pulls on the sheets, and just as he's about to lay the blanket on them, she rushes to lie down on the sheets first and freezes, as if not moving renderred her invisible.

He has to pretend like he doesn't see her, while he covers her entirely, hiding her. 

He hears her giggling insanely while he tucks the side of the blanket as if she wasn't underneath. She squirms. 

How discreet.

 

Then, he has to pretend like he's looking for her.

 

"Liadan?---where is she? ---She disappeared? How?  _How_?"

 

He opens the wardrobe and move the hangers, to make her believe he's looking for her there, when really his eyes are on the bed.

 

"What am I gonna tell Mommy? She's gonna be so mad that I lost our only child."

 

At this point she's laughing out loud like a maniac, her shrieky voice barely muffled by the blanket.

 

Jesus. What a weirdo. 

 

 

But sometimes, just  _sometimes_ , he can't stand her. 

He cannot,  _cannot_  stand his daughter.

Can't stand to be in the same room with her. 

 

Always asking shit, always falling, bumping her head or her knee into something -so often he's in fact convinced she does it on purpose. Never listening when he gives her crucial informations.

He has to repeat at least ten times everything he says for it to register, and then she just says  _no_  to it, no matter what it is he tells her. 

 

She's  _four_. 

That's an awful age. 

 

 _Fuuuuuck_  she's annoying. Everytime she pops up into a room, he has to repress the most  _intense_  sigh.

 

But also,  _also_ , if he loses sight of her, if for some reason someone -a teacher, Leia, a doctor,  _Rey_ , even- wants to take her away from him, he can't act even remotely like he's okay with it. 

 

It's like she's a prototype, still, and all those people aren't qualified to handle her properly.

 

Only he can do that. 

He knows everything there is to know about that human being, from her allergies to how she likes her pasta, to which movies she's crazy about, and that she can't stand for her disgusting,  _disgusting_  pillow she uses to fall asleep to be washed. His entire life revolves around her. He hates it, but he can't go through life any other way now. 

 

" _Sooo_ , are you  _excited_? New school, new friends? You're gonna meet  _nice people_ , there's so many fun toys in there, too!"

 

"I don't want to--"

 

"Compelling argument, you're staying home."

 

" _Ben!_ " He hears from the living room. 

 

 

* * *

 

That's all Rey says now. She swears she has to scold the father of her kid more often than said kid.

Not that she really ever scolds her little girl.

Or that her heart is completely in it when she does scold the Dad. 

 

Liadan will never know Mommy the way she knows her Daddy.

Rey is fine with that, but sometimes she's afraid her daughter might not be. Or that she won't be okay with it, later on in life.

It's not really rational, but it's hard for her not to think about it, every time she has to leave for work.

A stay-at-home Dad is not common. It's just not. 

 

And Ben doesn't say anything, because he genuinely values being one, but she knows he must face some stares at school, if he ever tells someone that he doesn't have a job and "just" takes care of his child all day. 

She knows, because when she told people at work she was choosing to pursue her career instead of staying at home to take care of her daughter after Liadan was born, she caught some stares of the same kind -for the opposite reasons. 

 

Ever since, once in a while, she feels guilty. 

 

So when Liadan shows a vivid interest for how Mommy cooks, Rey does all she can to keep that interest alive.

To keep her nearby. 

 

Ben usually tells her eveything that happened while she was at work when she's cooking dinner. And one day, he tells her that Liadan believes her Mom is a cook. 

It's cute. And she's young, she's not supposed to know what her Mom does -Rey wonders if children are even aware of what a job truly is, at this age. 

 

Nevertheless, Rey's unable to hide the bitterness inside.  

And she can even less explain it. Her throat tightens a bit, and she falls silent, focusing on the zucchini she's peeling. 

Ben's watching her attentively.

 

Does she have to tell Ben anything anyway?

That man can read her like a book now. 

 

As soon as the next day, he's told Liadan extensively about her Mom's job. And Liadan, being a child, took all the informations he gave her, chew them good and spat them back with her own personal touch.

He told her that Mommy helps drawing the roads, and keep them clean and beautiful.

 _Close enough_ , Rey thinks. She supposes "construction" and "maintenance" are too complicated words for her yet.

 

But what Liadan makes of this, is that her Mom actually  _built_  the roads herself,  _all of them_  -like, with her bare hands, and a truck, and a shovel.

 

Ben finds it hilarious. 

Rey can't deny it makes her smile.

 

 

Right about now, though, she doesn't want to smile. It's Sunday morning, not even eight yet, and Ben's already gave her a reason to scowl. 

 

_...Daddy's eating Mommy's pussy out._

 

She aggressively moves the scrambled eggs around in the pan -at least, what's _aggressively_ by her standards.

A bit abuptely, then.

 

Scrambled eggs, because she doesn't have any inspiration today, her mind is somewhere else. 

She hears Ben dragging his heavy steps to the kitchen on the wooden floor, all the way from the corridor. 

 

They moved to a much bigger appartment when she was pregnant, since her salary allowed it, but she can still hear him move all across its superficy when he walks, even when she's at the opposite. 

 

He enters the kitchen, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

She already knows he's gonna try to provoke her one way or another, to distract her and somewhat diffuse the tension. Not gonna work this time. 

 

"I miss bacon sometimes."

 

Well. He's doesn't have any inspiration either, apparently.

 

She doesn't react. 

 

They've stopped eating meat three years ago. Any kind of meat. 

 

...because it upsets Bébé. The pig. 

 

As if on cue, Bébé grunts from under the table.

Bébé spends most of his time sleeping, but during the meals, he's always in the kitchen. 

 

Pigs are very intelligent creatures. 

 

Rey knows what's going on in Ben's head.  _She's actually mad? Weird._

 

 

Sure enough, he asks with an innocent tone: 

"Um... Something troubling your mind?"

 

She won't dance around it, not when Liadan's in the living room, blessedly out of earshot, and that it's just a matter of time before she comes back for her breakfast.

 

"You can't say things like that to her," she whispers, eyes on the pan. Because she wants to pay attention to what she's doing, but also... she can't mention the "things" she just mentionned and also look at him in the eyes. 

 

Thankfully, he seems willing to remain serious this time, and he also speaks with a soft voice, probably to appease her. Now they just look like two conspiracy nut cases, their back turned to Liadan, glancing from time to time at her, whispering low, bending over the pan, very close to one another:

"She doesn't understand, it's fine--" he starts. 

 

"You  _know_  she repeats everything she hears-"

 

"Uh, yeah, I do know, because I'm with her 24/7. My patience knows about it too."

 

"So?"

 

"So?" he parrots, crossing his arms. 

 

"I don't want people to know about our private life, what if she repeats it at school," her eyes go from one point to the next, "--and her friends repeat it to their parents, to their teachers?"

 

"You're right," he falsely concedes. "We don't want those people to believe we had our daughter by having sex."

 

His tone is still as soft as can be, despite the sarcasm. He's trying to make fun of her, without antagonizing her. She won't have it. 

 

"This is not  _having sex_  and you know it!"

 

"Well, --uh--...now I'm confused."

His face is more or less blank, and she can read some sort of  wariness on it, but he's also staring at her intently.

 

She stutters:

"That's--it's--that's not what  _you told her._  We---  _what will you say?_  When she says to her teacher that---that-"

 

She turns to look at Liadan. She's on the couch, watching  _Homeward Bound_  again. 

 

She gets closer to Ben, her eyes down, feeling her cheeks burn before the words are even out of her mouth, speaking as low as can be: 

"...that her  _Daddy ate her Mommy's pussy out?"_  

 

When she dares to look up at him again, swallowing hard, his eyes are as dark as can be. 

 

" _Oh my god_..." he breathes, almost in a whine, like he's in actual agony, his eyes not leaving her mouth. 

The change of tone is so subtle yet so clear, that it throws her off for a second or two, and she can't quite understand right away what's happening, until he groans faintly:

 

" _Please,_  Rey. ---can you please, please...  _please_  say that again?"  
\--all the while vaguely palming himself through his shorts.

 

She hits him hard on the shoulder. 

 

" _Ow!_ I'm kidding,  _Jesus,"_ he protests, rubbing his shoulder.

 

Not exactly. He's not exactly kidding, but she'll let it pass this time. He adds for good measure: 

"I just struggled to get rid of the hard on you abandoned me with, for your information." 

 

He's never  _too_  sorry for acting like a teenager sometimes, but at least he actually cares if she's mad or not. 

 

"You're gonna make me tear up," she retorts dryly, still low. 

 

The look he gives her then makes it so easy to read him. 

_When has she gotten this cruel?_

 

 

The whole breakfast goes smoothly, and Liadan slides out of her chair to go play in her room. Loudly. With Bébé running after her.

Still Ben approches her  _cautiously_ , as they clear the table and put everything away.

 

"When are we gonna resume then?" he asks in her ear -not even in an attempt to turn her on, or be playful whatsoever. His tone indicates it's a genuine,  _actual_  question, and his face is as serious as can be.  

The situation is critical, apparently. If someone can understand him, though, it's her. 

She needs this just as much as he does, but she doesn't know what to say to him. 

She shrugs with a sincere expression of concern. 

 

"I don't know, Ben," she murmurs. She pauses, only to repeat: "I--I don't know."

 

"No," he lets out, voice low, starting to break the well-behaved character he's interpreted throuhought the meal. "No-no. We're just gonna let it slide?" he asks, incredulous. 

And since she doesn't answer, not because she ignores him, but because she's actually looking for a solution, he gets closer to her to whine weakly:

" _Rey_ , --we need to do  _something_  about this."

 

Then, much lower, ragged, just a few inches from her face, with something of the impatience of a child, teeth gritted:

"I need to  _fuck you_ , you understand, woman? I need to fuck you  _yesterday_. We never fucked on that table," he adds, desperate, pointing at the kitchen table, as if that changed anything.

Not to mention they did. Numerous times. 

 

She looks at it, then at her feet, then at him, and tries with a small voice:

"Well... When Liadan has her nap, maybe?" 

 

He straightens up, with a blasé look that says:  _really_?

"So we're gonna have to be silent the whole time, like two teenagers?" 

 

She tentatively shrugs again, unable to hold his stare for more than two seconds.

 

He works his jaw, eyeing her pajamas like they personally offended him. She gulps silently.

 

"That's it," he drops like a verdict, warning her: "I'm gonna call Leia.  _It's happening_ ," before storming out of the kitchen.

 

To grab his phone, surely. 

Rey's heart is pounding for a minute, before it calms down. 

Anyone seeing her face beside Ben right now would believe she's scared shitless. 

But her knees are weak for a whole different reason. 

 _Anticipation_. 

 

"Round one!!" yells a shrieky voice, all the way from Liadan's bedroom.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ben makes sure their bedroom door is closed, before calling, not losing a second. 

Leia picks up at the first ringtone.

" _What?_ "

 

He's taken aback a little bit.

"Good morning to you too, Leia."

 

"I'm busy Ben, what is it?"

 

 _Fuck_. 

"Are you gonna be busy the whole day?"

 

"No, I'm busy right now. Why?"

 

"Come pick Liadan up,  _please_."

 

Now there's actual concern in her voice, probably because of how urgent he must sound, he realizes: 

"Is everything okay?"

 

He quickly thinks about a shit tone of excuses, all sounding more or less good, but before he knows it, those are the words that come out of his mouth instead: 

 

"Well, Leia. I need to fuck the mother of my kid, so."

 

"Jesus christ, Ben !!"

 

She's so loud, he has to remove the phone from his ear for a second. 

" _You NEVER learn,"_  he hears her add clear as day, even at this distance. 

 

He brings the phone back to his ear.

"So please, come as soon as possible." 

 

"You're just--- _very lucky_  that I can't get enough of my granddaughter."

 She hangs up. Not a minute later, he receives a text from her letting him know when she'll come.

 

 

There's always something. Either Rey's too tired, or he is, or both of them are. They don't have the time, don't have the energy, don't have the privacy -- _enough_. Today's the day.

 

He bursts into Liadan's room, on a mission, uncompromising like a pissed off almighty judge: 

"You're going at Grandma's today."

 

Liadan jumps to her feet from the ground where she was crouching, fists in the air:

"YEAH !!"

 

Damn it. She's his only ally in this war. 

 

When he returns to the kitchen, Rey's cutting something on the counter for noon already. But more importantly, she took her pajama top off, leaving her in a tank top, and she tied her hair in a high bun. 

 

_Oh she knows what she's doing._

 

"Leia can't come right away. She'll be there around two this afternoon."

 

She turns her head on the side a bit, nods, then quickly looks back down at her vegetables. 

 

He _has_ to check. 

 

He slowly gets closer to her, sensing her stiffen a bit while trying to keep doing whatever she's doing -he doesn't care what. 

When he's finally by her side, bending a bit to have a look, he gets a clear view of it. 

 

He fucking knew it. 

 

She's adorably pink all over her cheeks and nose.

 

This woman will be the death of him. 

 

She doesn't look back at him. Cautious. Even if it's not that apparent, he can hear her breathing is getting a bit uneven. 

 

"Okay, Rey?" he asks for confirmation, his eyes not leaving her face. 

 

"Yeah," she tries to shrug, her eyes  _definitely_  avoiding his.

 

Not gonna soften him. 

 

"Three hours until I fuck you inside out," he concludes. 

 

 _That_ definitely prompts her to look at him with round eyes.

" _Ben!_ "

 

Her shock is genuine. She's never gotten used to this, to his great joy. 

 

But  _he's_  not the type to blush, and  _he's_  not the type to look away; in fact, he only stares more intently into her eyes as he gets his face closer to hers, adding with a somewhat casual tone, watching her open her mouth even wider:

 

"...enjoy walking while you can."

 

 

The countdown has started.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CqBtS6BIP1E
> 
> The second part's coming soon =)


	2. Domesticated (2/2) - Bumpy Road

**Domesticated:**

_Bumpy Road_

 

 

 

To have a better view of what Mommy is cooking, Liadan calls her father, loudly, so he'll carry her in his arms to watch what Rey's stirring in that pot she's using.

Liadan attentively looks at the beans boiling.

And Rey attentively looks at Liadan, stirring still, a tender smile slowly growing on her face at the fascination  her daughter has over such a simple thing. 

Then Rey looks slightly up. 

And she stops smiling, because Ben is looking at her intently, the same way Liadan looks at those beans.

His stare, though, is most definitely predatory. 

 

He looks down a second, picks up a wooden spoon to plunge it into the mix. He takes a bit of the mixture out, blows on it good, and brings it to Liadan's mouth, who immediately licks it, making a mess, before nodding enthusiastically, as if she was a Chef checking on her staff's work. 

 

"How does it taste?" he still asks.

"Good," she confirms. 

 

Out of wanting to share a complicit moment with Ben, Rey feels another smile tug at her lips when she looks back up at him. 

In return, his own smile is genuine, tender, his eyes soft. But his eyebrows go up to keep her attention. 

She frowns, and asks a small, silent  _what_?

Right then, with very slow, exagerated movements of his lips, he mouths something to her.

 

_Two -hours._

 

...before staring down at chest, clenching his jaw.

She made the mistake to put on a white cotton dress.

 

Her whole face burns up.

 

She immediately looks back down at the content of her pot, her stomach clenching, feeling her core heat up in the second.

 

He doesn't laugh at that, like she expects him to. When she chances a glance at him, his stare has only grown darker.  

 

Because he doesn't mention it again through the whole meal, or looks at her the way he did when she was cooking, she thinks he's decided to leave her alone. For a moment she even forgets all about it, and is only focused on the food. 

The three of them eat in companionable silence, at the kitchen table, Ben and her sitting across from one another, with Liadan in the middle. 

 

Which is why she doesn't think anything of it when he asks her very casually, as she's looking down at her plate:

 

"Rey what time is it? I don't have my phone with me."

 

Without thinking twice, or even looking at him, she takes her phone out of the pocket of her dress, and tells him with her mouth full: 

"It's--a quarter to one."

 

She chews somewhat noisely, carefree, wiping Liadan's chin with a napkin ---only to freeze, her heart skipping a beat when she realizes on her own why he asked. She swallows her bite, then looks at him. 

 

He's trying to play it like he didn't mean anything by it, busying his hands by peeling an apple -but an imperceptible smirk is playing on his lips. 

 

She looks back down at her own plate, feeling her heart hammer in her chest - _already._

 _That's all it took_.

But it's about to get worse.

 

He stops hiding that it's an act when he says with a flat tone but clear as day, as if he was mentionning the weather: 

 

"You won't know what happens to you."

 

...making it very hard to breathe for her in the process.

 

Liadan eats her yogurt with determination, completely oblivious to what's going on. 

 

Rey can't help but risks a small: "---what?"

 

She heard him good of course, but her disbelief at his nerve, along with her own growing nervosity and anticipation makes her react in a stupid way.

 

Still looking down at his apple, and still as if he was talking about the most trivial thing, he adds:

 

"...I'll make sure you'll feel it in your molars, Mommy."

 

Her shock is so pure, so strong that she lets out an incredulous snort despite herself, before stiffening and falling silent right away. 

 

But he heard her. He stops what he's doing to look at her then, eyebrows up from his own disbelief at her reaction, with another smirk.

 

She squirms on her chair, clears her throat.

 

"--what was that?" He asks.

 

She looks everywhere but him, her cheeks burning all over again.

 

"...that's what I thought," he growls low, satisfied.

 

 

 

Ben finds Rey in the living-room watering the plants, when he's putting in a small blue backpack a few things for Liadan. Her coloring book, her pillow, and some of the cake her mom made the day before. Rey doesn't look at him. 

 

"Are you  _excited_?" he asks. 

 

He's properly  _delighted_  to see that,  _naturally_ , Rey doesn't look up. 

 

... because she obviously thinks that Liadan's with him, and that he asked that to his daughter, given his tone. 

The look on her face when she does look up, only to see that he's  _alone_ , looking at her expectantly, is priceless. 

 

"Cause I am," he adds. "I'm  _very_  excited, in fact."

 

"Shut,  _up,"_  she finally retorts in a whisper, almost stomping her foot with her fists clenched, before leaving the room.  

 

...he's gonna wreck that woman. He's gonna ruin her. 

 

"Thirty minutes, Mommy!" He throws after her. 

 

 

 

When the bell's ringing later on, Ben actually  _runs to the door_.

 

" _You're late_ ," he hisses, when he finally faces Leia. 

 

Fifteen minutes late. Some people love playing with fire.

 

"Calm down, Ben, or I'll leave without the kid," she shoots back immediately.

 

He displays a genuine look of terror at the threat. That shuts him up effectively. 

 

Except for when he calls his daughter. 

_"Liadan !!"_

 

Naturally, Liadan doesn't answer. He rushes and disappears in the corridor to get her: "Lili, Nanny's here!"

 

Leia winces, muttering: " _Nanny?_ \---oh, hey, Rey-"

She takes two steps in to hug her: "--someone with some common sense here." 

 

"Do you want a tea or something? Anything to drink?" Rey asks her. 

 

Leia looks at her with wide eyes.

"And risk getting murdered by my son? You're kidding right?"

 

It's Rey's turn to look at Leia with stupor all over her face: "Wh--what do you mean?"

 

Leia picks up on it and hurries to say with a reassuring tone: " _Uuuh_ , don't worry, dear, I mean that I--don't have the time, that's all."

 

 

 

When Ben finally closes the door on Leia and his daughter, he takes a few seconds, facing said door, to inhale deeply through his nose. He hears them babbling nonsense down the hallway, to the elevator. Bébé is in Liadan's room, sleeping. 

 

Rey must be somewhere behind him, a few feet back, surely.

 

He fills his lungs with air, then closes the three locks on the door one buy one, deliberately taking his time. 

Then blows out through his mouth very gradually, as if he was a boxer ready to get up on the ring, before turning slowly to face Rey. 

 

 

She's  _shaking_. But there's something of a determined look on her face, and he knows why. 

 

 

He knows what to do. He knows what she likes now. It's fairly new, it's only started a year ago or so, and they have  _very_  rare occasions to do it, but this occasion is a perfect one, and he can tell she thinks so to. 

 

He's got a confirmation of it when his eyes fall on her feet. She's barefeet, not wearing any socks. He, on the other hand, does wear socks. 

 

Shit.  _Fuck_. He should have thought of that. 

 

No time to take them off though. 

 

Because she barely gives him a second to blink, before she bolts out of his sight.

Running.

 

 

She rushes down the corridor, careful to pay attention if he's following her, or if he went on the other side of the wall to block her at the end of it, should she decide to turn, in which case she'll have to think fast and make an about-turn. 

She gives it all she has, but this appartment, despite not being small, is all turns and walls and every time she gains some speed, she has to slow down precipitously to turn, to suddenly change directions or to get around an obstacle.

Thank God she thought of taking off her slippers and her socks. That wooden floor is unforgivable. And he has his socks on, so that's an advantage for her, she supposes. 

 

This isn't a joke to him, he  _runs_.

Through the corridor, around the dinner table, the island of the kitchen.

He'll chase her only a second, if he can, and he'll be content. He doesn't care to make it interesting, or to make it last.

 

She feels his resolutness in the way his feet hit the floor just behind her, getting dangerously close until she gains some distance again. She can tell even when she can't see his face, that he's not gonna make it easy of her to escape him, not even in the first moments, where all this could just be fun.

 

She feels the urge to laugh, at times, but the second she's about to, she's split in half with another rush of adrenaline, at the sound of his breathing and his precipitated and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor, a rush that twists her guts with genuine terror, making it impossible for her to even breathe -let alone giggle. 

 

Both of them, actually, are too out-of-breath to talk while running, or to laugh, which makes for such a strange atmosphere, where silence is only filled with uncharacteristical sharp breaths and rapid, panicked footsteps.

 

The feeling never ceases to be foreign, no matter how many times they did this -not that it's happened a lot- particularly with how silent the appartment is when Liadan isn't there. 

 

Rey runs for her  _life_. 

 

They've barely started, when she goes around the couch and he finds himself on the other side of it. They're facing each other, breathing hard, scanning each other's faces and moves. She can somewhat catch her breath, despite the fact that she has to pay a great attention to each of his calculated false starts that he does, to try and get her to go one way.

 

She's desperate to breathe. That's a _much_ needed break.

 

Goddamn it. He's in shape. 

 

They're both  _way_  too alert for what's supposed to be just a game, both bent a bit, in a stance that'll allow them to bolt at any time. They're catching their breaths somewhat, because he's able to ask between two huffs, eyes fixed on her:

 

"--I mean, why run? ...you know there's only one way this will end."

 

She won't answer that, focusing on her breathing.

His stupid smirk is back. 

 

Every time she even attempts to make a step on the side, he mirrors her movements. It's safer to just stop moving for now. 

 

"You look very pretty today."

 

"Shut  _up,"_  she huffs in exasperation. 

 

He doesn't shut up. 

"You make me hard like I'm thirteen again."

 

She knows he's only saying whatever goes through his head to have her react and distract her, but she can't help wincing. 

"Great," she comments low, sarcastic. 

 

"I know, it  _is_  great, isn't it?"

 

They're not moving at all, wary. He seizes the opportunity that he has all of her attention, to deliberatly look at her up and down, slowly.

 

Even at this distance, she can appreciate just how tall and broad he is. She's reminded of it in those moments. The rest of the time, she tends to forget. 

 

"You look shaken," he says, probing.

 

She takes the bait and childishly counters with a voice way too weak: "I'm not--"

 

He lets out a breathy, short laugh. But then, his jaw comes forward a bit as he speaks:

"--if your panties aren't  _soaked_  right now, I'll let you go free."

 

He exhales sharply, as if he didn't expect his own words to arouse him. He straightens up, chin still a bit in, eyes pointedly fixed on her face.

 

"Deal? You just let me check."

 

She swallows.

An all too familiar heat spreads all over her face. Her ears, her lips burn. 

It doesn't get any better when she sees a triumphant, smug smile spread on his face in return.

 

"...guess I don't need to," he concludes. 

 

He makes a false start that startles her, but also, he almost hits one of her artisanal lamp with his elbow. 

 

"The  _lamp_ , watch out," she hurries to say before it happens again. 

He's a bear in a dollhouse, wherever he is, that man. 

 

"Fuck the lamp," he mutters, again, to distract her, apparently, because on the impulse she has to defend the lamp, her mind momentarily occupied with something other than the situation, he jumps on the couch to get where she is, on the other side of it _._

She shrieks in sheer panic, rushing just in time, disappearing in the corridor again. 

 

Unfortunately for him, as he's on her heels, this time he doesn't avoid the drawer left open in the corridor and bumps his left knee into it full speed.

 

_"FUCK!"_

 

He stops, grabbing his knee, teeth gritted.

 

...dangerous to a kid, he already knows he's not the one who left it this way, and they'll have to talk about this later. 

 

She never lost some of the weight she gained during her pregnancy, her cheeks are fuller, her thighs, her ass -god bless-, her belly and her arms too -and he never lost the sympathy weight he gained during it either, his waist thicker for it, but he's fit nonetheless.

 

He never gave up on his routine with push ups and goes around town on his bike, since he never got his driver license back. He's ever so strong and heavy, and she might be more agile but he always catches her sooner rather than later-although, that's obviously also due to the fact that she always ends up nervously giggling at some point while running, and that can't be of any service to her.

 

But right now, he doesn't hear anything. He can't say where she went. All he knows is that given how silent it is, she's hiding. 

 

"Honey?" he probes, catching his breath still.

 

She doesn't answer. Not that there was any hope she would. 

 

He advances in the corridor, slowly, wooden floor creaking under his weight. If it wasn't for the blinding sun outside gently flooding the whole appartment, the whole thing would feel like a horror movie. 

He slowly pushes the bathroom door open. 

 

"Not very fairplay of you..." he starts, approaching the bathtub, before swiftly opening the curtain.

 

It's empty. 

 

"...this isn't hide and seek."

 

The reverberation in that room deepens the timber of his voice. 

 

Back in the corridor, he holds his breath to hear better. But he doesn't hear anything. 

If she manages to change rooms as he goes along, they're gonna be at it for a while. 

 

Next stop is their bedroom. 

The door's already open, he pushes it wider, and stops in the doorway. 

He might be talking to no one, but he still does, his tone patient: one of a man who deeply believes that good things come to those who wait:

 

"One advice,"  he warns, voice low as he steps inside, his eyes focused on the bed - _is she under?_ \- then on the wardrobe - _is she inside?_

 

"--stay well hidden... because when I catch you, you're in for a funny dance." 

 

He's near the bed trying to be as silent as possible now,  and is just about to bend very slowly, when he sees something moving in the corner of his eye.

 

The door. She was behind the fucking door. 

 

He barely has the time to see her bolt out of the room.

He sprints right after her. 

 

His socks still give him no adherence on this fucking floor, but nothing can falter his resolve this time, as he follows her down the corridor, and sees her run for the couch again---

 

\---and no, there's just no fucking way, not this time-

 

He grits his teeth bringing all his body forward, should he fucking crash into her, anything rather than let her go on the other side of that  _fucking couch_ \--

 

But blessedly his arms very abruptely close around her waist just in time, eliciting a stunned " _UGH_ " from her, vigorously stopping her in her tracks and sending her legs kicking in the air once or twice from the adrenaline.

 

 _THERE_. 

 

She  _gasps_ sharply, the way she would if he had poured a bucket of iced water on her, her chest heaving, bracing herself on his shoulders, her whole body tense and writhing. 

 

For a few seconds he keeps her feet off the ground, trapping her against his chest, his hold like a vice compressing her against him. He's panting hard against her shoulder. 

 

And he's got a raging hard on.

 

His hold losens just enough to let her back on the ball of her feet, barely, before he tightens said hold back with one arm around her waist --while the other hand slowly slides from her back to her ass. She's still panting, because she just ran, sure, but not only.

 

She looks up at him, squirming feebly against him, pressing her lips hard, her face entirely red, her eyes already glassy -and her hands fisting his shirt at his chest.

 

To his great pleasure, he gets to shush her as if she was a frightened animal:

 

" _Shhh,_   _there_ \--- Breathe, _"_

 

...all the while palming her ass, petting her under the pretense of soothing her, helping himself.

 

But his groping only gets her to pant more, of course, and it properly  _delights_  him to see her this way. He doesn't even bother hiding his shit eating grin from her, making her blush all the more in the process. 

 

This is fun and all, but he could die tomorrow, so he's not about to spend the entire afternoon standing up. 

 

"--what do you want?" He asks, looking straight down at her face, very serious again.

 

She closes her eyes, trying to sober up even if a little bit, and to regain control over her breathing, but he's impatient, isn't he?

 

" _Mmh?_  --I asked you something."

He tries to prompt her by squeezing her ass with both his hands --hard. 

 

" _Uuh,_ " she puffs first, helpless, arching her back and writhing against him, desperately trying not to do so too evidently.

 

Only the balls of her feet are touching the ground still; that's how tight he's keeping her, and she's clinging to him all the more.  

 

"...your cock," she finally breathes, barely above a whisper.

 

It's so soft-spoken, the contrast between what she's saying and how she's saying it makes him harden even more -he makes sure she can feel him good through the clothes, and grinds against her hip as he goes, with a small pout:

 

 _"Do you now_?"

But he's not able to keep his tone in check completely, and hears himself growl as he comments, his breath a bit short, an inch from her face:

 

"...Such a filthy word, in that sweet, pretty mouth of yours."

 

He makes a show of caressing her cheek tenderly with the back of his knuckles, tightening his hold around her waist with his other arm:

"...and how would you like to have it?" 

 

She hides her face against his chest, again, visibly trying to contain her breathing -he can tell it's a lot, but that doesn't stop him, because to him it's not enough, and he's a selfish asshole. 

 

"Can't hear you. "

 

"Hard," she says softly against him, her eyes closed, barely moving her lips -frowning and then rolling her hips despite herself. 

 

If everything could be that easy.

 

"Use your words, angel."

 

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, blushing a furious red, fists tight on his shirt, her lips swollen from biting them and pressing them together too hard, as the request gets out in a whisper:

 

"...fuck me hard, please." 

 

He lets out half a chuckle, staring into her eyes, one hand absentmindedly feeling her breast through the dress now, smug as ever:

"...and I will. You polite, well mannered bird." 

 

He kisses her hard on the lips, loudly, for good measure, then loosens his hold with half-shut eyes as he looks down at her, saying calmly, plainly:

 

"I'll be a prince, you can choose where. Go ahead."

  

Her face is on fire - _again_. Every part of this makes her melt with hot shame under his gaze, her heart out of control, no matter how many times he's made her choose before.

 

She has to look around, pick a spot, then place herself, which is so much worse than if he manhandled her -and so much better too. Her core is throbbing insanely as waves of heat wash over her face again and again.

 

No option will relieve her shy nature. If she goes to a spot right away, she'll be ashamed of her eagerness, and if she hesitates, it'll only make how serious she is about this more apparent.  

 

That she has to make a decision, really, is the one thing in the end that renders her willing participation in this so much more obvious, to both of them. 

 

Her legs are made of cotton, it seems, when he lets her back down on her heels. She walks the best she can, and he looks at her go, his own feet firmly planted in the ground, his fists clenched at each sides of hips.

His shorts taut. 

 

She looks at the dinner table for a second, but then changes her mind.

 

Her hand a bit trembling, she very awkwardly bends over the arm of the couch, before blushing a deep red when she thinks better of it, and crawls over it to lie on her front on the couch directly. 

 

He looks at her the whole time, without commenting on anything. His breathing a bit heavy through his nose. 

 

She's her left cheek against the couch, her arms folded at her sides, her fist right against her mouth.

 

When she stops wiggling and shifting, and she looks up at him, he nods once.

 

"Good choice, angel."

 

How can three little words be such a blessing? All her shame is swept away.

 

She holds her breath when he slowly straddles the back of her thighs, making the cushions move under his weight, before he very carefully pulls up the hem of her dress to her waist, taking his time, reveling in that simple task. 

 

She hears his breathing hitch when he slows down even more pulling down her cotton panties, very slowly uncovering her ass, humming briefly in satisfaction at the sight. She feels the cool air on her skin, and the hem dragging slowly on her cheeks, while the skin of her face only burn some more.

 

She's wetting the couch.

 

He bends over her, his eyes on her face. 

 

"First..." he starts softly, actually taking the tone of a genuine suggestion: "...it seems to me that you need to be put back on the right path." She can tell he's purposefully refraining from touching her yet. "Wouldn't you agree?"

 

She closes her eyes briefly, clenching her fists a bit more, breathing in the cushion, taking a few seconds to recover from that simple offer.

 

He'd spank her right away, but she knows there's nothing in his eyes that beat having her agree to it, aknowledge loud and clear that this is what she wants.

 

"Can't hear you," he prompts, sitting back on his heels, hands still to himself. 

 

She opens her mouth but finds she can't talk, her heart in her throat from anticipation. Instead, she wordlessly  brings her shaking hands on the arm of the couch above her head to brace herself, clenching them hard, her breath getting more uneven -letting that speak for itself. 

 

He hums, content.

 

"You know you need it, sweetheart," he says, as if he was talking about a necessary evil, as if he was trying to get her to be reasonable. "Don't you?"

 

She closes her eyes exhaling through her nose, swallowing. 

She barely starts nodding, when his hand lands square on ass.  

 

_SMACK._

 

She gasps hard, neck strained, opening her eyes and her mouth wide soudlessly, her whole body jerking. She pants a few times coming down from the shock, her ass stinging, her flesh between her thighs throbbing with a whole other intensity.

 

"You  _did_  make me chase you," he comments nonchalantly to justify himself further, unmoved by her state.

 

"I--"

 

 _SMACK_.

 

She gasps again, bucking her hips up as a reflex, then letting them back down, panting loud. 

Both his hands find her ass to generously fondle it, soothing the burn. 

 

"You're doing really well... taking it like a champ'."

 

She goes rigid in anticipation for the next one. But she senses hesitation from him. 

 

"Rey?"

 

His tone, sincere, catches her off guard. "Yes?" She croaks, lifting her head up a bit and turning it to the side, even though she can't really see him. 

 

A few seconds pass, as if he was trying to find the right words. 

 

"Don't leave the drawers open," he finally says.

 

It takes her a second or two, to realize what he's saying, but most importantly to realize that his tone, again, is actually genuine. 

 

"Oh, I--I--" she stutters, blinking. 

 

"It's okay," he interrupts her, trying to reassure her. "I just--"

He pauses, all the while petting her ass.

"I know you don't do it on purpose, just try not to forget? Liadan could get hurt."

 

Bracing herself on her elbows, she nods, craning her neck and twisting her bust a bit to look at him: "Sorry, I'm sorr--"

 

 _SMACK_.

 

 _"--eeee!"_  she yelps, her face contorted, before letting herself back down on the couch with a sonorous  _Ugh!!_ coming from the back of her throat -defeated.

 

"...I know you are."

 

 _SMACK_. 

 

She moans  _loudly_ , her eyes shut hard, her chin pressing in the couch. 

 

That should do it.

 

"There," he concludes, breathless, kneading her red ass that she pushes in his hands to get a bit more friction. "Medium rare."

 

He bends to plant two long, firm kisses on each of her ass cheeks.

"Well done. That's the mother of my child."

 

" _Mmmh--_ " she whines feebly in response, a crease on her forehead, face hot, while rubbing her thighs together.

 

"Yup."

 

He slips a hand between her thighs to lazily rub a finger over her folds, circling her clit once, as if only to check if eveything's in order, and it's like she can finally breathe again after minutes spent under water: she bucks her hips  _hard_ , with a pained moan through closed lips, breathing sharply through her nose.

 

Very suddenly he presses his thumb into her, again as if experimenting, meeting absolutely no resistance at all, and he thinks he's gonna go blind at the sole emotion he feels when he hears her whisper frantically to herself:

" _...YES. Yes, yes -yes..._ "

 

She squirms, bucking against his hand. 

 

She's come a long way, that one.

 

He positions himself. She arches her back, spreading her knees a bit more.

Not a moment to think: his cock presses steadily into her, stretching her as he lets his weight take him home, going slow but not stopping at any point. 

She whines with her mouth shut, pressing her lips together, her fists clenched. 

 

Not thirty seconds later, he puts both his hands on the small of her back, pressing her down, before properly  _fucking her into the couch._

 

She doesn't fight it and lets it happen; her eyes watering, her brows creased, her tongue slightly out as she pants and whines at the strength of each thrusts. 

 

He inhales and exhales through clenched teeth in effort, trying to find enough air to speak:

 

"Doesn't it bring back memories to you?" he spits -he's not even sure she hears him through her panting, or if she can pay attention but he goes on anyway:

 

"...the first time I fucked you--"

 

Her longer moans and gasps are cut off by his thrusts, and at times it sounds as if she was biking on a bumpy road full speed. 

 

He pauses, breathing hard, sighing loud, while his tone remains soft:

 

"It was on a couch, not too different from this one..."

 

The poor woman isn't there. Her face is as red as ever, she's blinking, grateful for the pause, forelocks wet from the sweat.

 

"...in the middle of the afternoon, too."

 

And she hears that at least, because she goes: "Uh?"

 

He ignores that, and delicately starts gathering her hair, hearing her pant in anticipation again at the realization of what he's doing. 

 

His voice goes down an octave.

"I had you squeaking like a damn mouse."

 

Without further prologue, he grabs her hair good, and she actually squeaks, because life is poetic, he supposes.

He wraps it up:

"...I guess you could say I'm a romantic."

 

On those words, he pulls on her hair, arching her neck, and starts to mercilessly pound into her, his other arm bracing on the couch next to her.

 

No sound comes out of her at first, despite her mouth being wide open, but soon her voice goes startling high, so he releases her, letting himself down, caging her from behind with his elbows on each sides, breathing hard on her cheek -and kissing it:

 

"All good?"

 

"Ugh!" she replies, before two strangled "--yes, yes-" follow.

 

"Go on, catch you breath... Enjoying the ride so far?" he asks, out-of-breath himself, while he starts grinding good against her, pressing his pelvis all he can against her ass. 

 

She moans a long, lazy, drawn-out sound to that, her eyelids fluttering, ending it with a breathy "- _yeees_ , yes." 

 

"Mmmh," he hums then, rolling his hips ever so slowly, pressing into her with all his weight.

 

He reaches around her waist, then lower, and rubs his fingers flat there. 

" _Mmh, MMH_ " she goes, closing her eyes, biting on her lip, squirming under him. 

 

He continues as if he hadn't noticed, and says with a ragged voice in her neck:

"I can tell when Mommy needs a good fuck ---mmh?"

 

She only bucks her hips in response, panting.

 

"...yes, I can."

 

He removes his hand, and braces himself on his elbows:

"Mommy's in need, Daddy provides-" 

 

\--before charging, harder and harder, keeping his jaw set until he hisses through clenched teeth:

"Yes,  _fuck!!_ "

 

He doesn't have to be at it for long, before she starts squealing. He hurries to take her hand, grabbing it roughly in his haste, and brings it between her thighs:

 _"There_ , you sweet thing. Let me see you work your magic."

 

No need to ask twice.

 

She rubs herself fervently, her mouth crushed in the cushion, while he pounds her, relentless, feeling his abs burn.

They don't last much longer. 

 

Soon he feels her tense all over under him, plainly and simply  _crying_ , while he lets out two ragged: "That's it,  _that's iiiit_ ," puffing sharply, as he struggles to give her proper thrusts -and even more to speak, his next words getting out in an exhale:

 

"...well done."

 

But as she lets herself go limp, he charges again into her --coming less than a minute later. 

 _"FUUUCK,"_  he roars, his face in the back of her neck. 

 

His whole body burns from the effort, and he soon lets himself down on her, breathing in her ear, with the genuine intention to check:

"Everything good, Mommy?" 

 

She lets her head rest on the couch. 

 

 _Uuh_ , is all she articulates.

 

 

 

A few minutes have gone by, surely. She turned around at some point to lie on her back, and he must have let her, because he's lying back on her, his face buried in her neck, his eyes closed -his brain in standby.

 

"You're crushing me," she mumbles, her eyes closed as well. Clearly she's just trying to get attention. 

 

"Aren't you used to it?" he asks, almost muffled by his cheek pressed against her skin. She doesn't react, and maybe if she had, he wouldn't have taken the silence as an invitation to open his fucking mouth anymore than that. 

 

"Haven't I been a dead weigth for a while, now?" He chuckles half-heartedly.

 

Her body goes rigid under him.

His eyes flick open. 

 

" _What??_ "

 

She doesn't leave him enough time to think of anything to say, to nip that in the bud. 

 

In a second she pushes him, proving she had the strength to do so all along, and kneels on the couch to face him as he does the same, her hair ruffled and her dress still up her waist, her eyes wide. 

 

"Kidding. I'm kidding, Rey," he hurries to say, his hands a bit up, feeling his heart beat way too hard. 

Not exactly. He's not exactly kidding. 

 

Her eyes become shiny. But there's no tremor in her voice when she speaks. He doesn't think he's ever heard her have a sharper tone. 

" _No, you haven't_ , to answer your question." 

 

And it gets even more accusatory. 

" _Why would you even say that?_ "

 

He shakes his head, barely, unable to look her in the eyes. He hears himself stammer:

"It---it's a joke."

 

She won't back down, not even a little. 

"That's a  _SHIT JOKE_. I don't like it." 

 

What a way to sober up. 

 

They remain this way for a minute only maybe. But it certainly feels like hours. 

He doesn't know what to say, what to do, and just keeps his head down, his hair hiding his eyes, his hands on his knees, working his jaw. Feeling like shit. 

But when he hears a sniff, he jerks his head back up. 

 

Her chin is trembling.

Immediately, he reaches for her hand, but she keeps it out of his grasp:

" _No_. Apologize," she orders.

 

"I'm sorry," he says right away. 

 

_"Mean it!"_

 

"I mean it," he breathes. "...I'm sorry." 

 

Her face contorts despite herself. She swallows hard. 

He gingerly goes to take her hand, but because she refused it to him just before, he decides against it. 

 

Long seconds pass before he does anything. 

 

Finally, he bends slowly, and lets his lips find her knees. 

He kisses them, chastely, once, twice. She doesn't react. But she lets him. 

He kisses her hip next, still cautiously, his hands pressing on the small of her back. 

 

His breathing unsteady, he slowly goes up, his mouth an inch from her all the way to her neck, where he presses his lips again. She's still not moving. 

Finally, he grazes his lips on her cheek, and murmurs:

"I'm sorry." 

 

She's looking at him, eyes still wet, and he looks back, putting a peck on her lips, his hands coming up in her back and neck to steady her, as he kisses her again, mouth closed, and she lets him, and he does it again, until their mouths aren't closed anymore, but her eyes are. 

 

They lie back down as some point. 

He kisses her properly, thoroughly, until he has to stop because his jaw hurts. 

 

Her head is on his shoulder. She's relaxed again. 

She's a merciful woman. 

 

"Rey..."

 

Because she's surely tired, her voice is small again:

"What?"

 

But he feels her hand clench a bit on his t-shirt. 

She's afraid of what he might say. 

 

 

"I think,"

He swallows. 

"---I'm developping feelings for you."

 

 

Her hand flattens.

"...Idiot." 

 

 

They both fall asleep in the sunlight coming through the window. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQQM9FAJ8dI
> 
> I haven't replied to your comments yet, but I will!  
> THANK YOU for your enthusiasm, I LIVE FOR IT

**Author's Note:**

> You guys, I have a [tumblr](https://ao3animal.tumblr.com/) and a [twitter](https://twitter.com/ao3animal)  
> You can find infos there if you're looking for ways to support me
> 
> Say hi =)


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